


The Daily Life of an Unhappy Strider

by totally_hetero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Child Abuse, Dysphoria, Eating Disorder, Gen, Modern AU, Transphobia, bro's bad and I'm sorry, no sburb, trans!Dave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8933857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totally_hetero/pseuds/totally_hetero
Summary: You are Dave Strider, a stupid teen with an asshole older brother and semi-shitty friends. Things aren't going as well as you thought they'd be.





	1. Chapter 1

You, Dave Strider, finally reached your goal. It makes you so happy and giddy that you just want to squeal. But you don't 'cause that just isn't cool. After two weeks of skipping meals and living on snacks, you finally fit perfectly in a pair of skinny jeans that you had bought a year or so ago. They were a bright shade of red, just lighter than the colour of your eyes. They hugged your body, but weren't so tight that they were uncomfortable. You could breathe and move around, which you weren't able to do before you lost ten pounds. 

The downside is that you could no longer fit in your other pair of jeans. They had always been big on you, it was hard to find pants that were long enough to cover your ankles and big enough to fit around your hips, while still fitting your waist properly. In the end they didn't really fit anywhere, but you felt cool in them and with a belt you were able to keep them from falling to reveal your underwear. After losing weight though, the pants were basically falling off of you, even with a belt, so you decided to bury them in your bottom drawer with all of your old dresses that if you never saw them again, it would be too soon.   
Your bro yells that you have five minutes to catch the bus and you hurry it up. 

\---  
A week or so later and you continue to be Dave Strider. You are at your friend's house to work on your science fair project. It's awkward and weird and you detest all the time you have to spend working together with her. Days prior, she was going on about his feminine you looked and how you could never pass as a guy. It wasn't like this was the first time either. She was constantly going on about how your face was too round, your lips were full, and how you're curvy, 'you have the perfect body'. 

Each comment wears you down and you are currently at your breaking point. She was currently making quips about how 'lesbo' one of your other friends was.   
"I mean she just has that weird smile. And it's only to the girls. She's so creepy. Not to mention rude." You just continue to type the abstract you're working on. Most of the writing was done by you, as well as all of the graphs and the idea. 

"Marie, are you even listening ?"

You look up over your shades. Your pale hair is stabbing your eyes making it hard to focus on her. "Don't take this the wrong way, but shut the hell up. I'm trying to write here, and I'd appreciate it if you weren't trying to yak my ear off. " You growl this, back spacing to fix your typos. Your friend wasn't so happy that you said this. She hated you butting into her bitchiness, she preferred for you just to sit there and nod, just like the 'perfect girl' you are.   
You have told her multiple times that you're a guy, you think like a guy, you're slowly looking more like a guy, and that you identify as a guy. You've also explained to her that you aren't perfect, far from it, but she just won't listen. She just replies with a snide 'Sure, Ms One-Hundred' and refuses to speak to you for the rest of the day.   
Your friend huffs and turns back to the trifold. "You done with the abstract yet?"

"Just about. We good on paper?"

"Yeah I think we have enough." 

\---

Two weeks pass by and surprise, surprise, you're still Dave Strider. It's the Valentine's dance at your school and absolutely none of your friends showed up, leaving you standing around in a button up and a skirt. Ed Sheeran played in the background and most kids are sitting on the bleachers messing around on their phones, some listening to their own music. You wonder why they would show up to a dance to do absolutely nothing, then you remember your own situation and understand it perfectly. 

Fuck it. One more brainless teen on a device won't make a difference. You sit your fat ass down and whip out your own phone. It was weird keeping it in your breast pocket, but nobody seemed to care so you had carried on. You pulled up PesterChum and only saw a purple name flash as 'online'. Both John and Jade were offline. 

TG: hey rose  
TG: this dance is lame as shit  
TG: I honestly thought this was gonna be cooler  
TG: and less sitting around  
TG: they even brought out the big guns  
TG: they played god damn thriller but not a single soul was on the dance floor  
TG: except for a few loners that have been standing there this entire time  
TG: i dont even think they went to go get food or water or whatever  
_TT: Speaking of food, have you eaten, Strider?   
TG: yeah  
TG: i ate the school cafeteria hamburger  
TG: i saw it move too  
TG: it looked like it was ready to be put out of its misery  
TG: eat me dave it said  
TG: and eat it i did  
_TT: I hope you bid it farewell before you ended the poor excuse of food. It'd be a shame if it didn't have a proper goodbye.   
_TT: Or if it was wasted.   
TG: fuck off lalonde  
_TT: I love you too, Strider. 

For the second time that night, you decide fuck it. You turn off your phone and take a good look around the room. None of your closer friends showed up, and anyone you know is too busy talking to their actual friends to even briefly entertain you. The decorations weren't as festive as the previous dances. Cheap fuckers decided to go the easy way out and just put the same red strobe lights that they used for the Christmas dance out and call it quits. Nothing really made it a "Valentine's" dance except for the title and sappy love songs they played occasionally. As you look around, your eyes land on the restrooms that were just outside the gym. 

You did eat some bites of the burger earlier. Maybe if you just.... No, that'd be stupid. Children in Africa could've eaten that hideous monstrosity masquerading as food. But the idea of not gaining any weight sounds beyond amazing. You didn't need those empty calories.   
And with that thought in mind you, Dave Strider, made your way over to the girls bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Several weeks fly past and you're giving up on calling yourself Dave. You are Marie Elizabeth Strider and you aren't kidding anyone. Bro decided to take control over your haircut and said to the stylist that he hated it being so short and that you should stick with feminine cuts. So now you have a pixie cut that looks like it belongs on a Twilight vampire. 

On the ride home from the salon, you made a terrible mistake: you decided 'lip off' at Bro and tell him that you didn't like him controlling your haircut. As soon as you got home, you were dragged off to the roof and proceeded to get the absolute shit beat out of you by a dull, shitty sword that's got to be years older than you. You are now sitting in your room nursing your cuts and bloody nose. You ran out of bandages after the last strife, but Bro didn't buy any new ones so you're settling with the ultra thin, totally-not-useless toilet paper he did buy. 

Next to you, your phone buzzes. You check and it's a message from Rose. Great, you think, just the thing to make this day sunshine and rainbows. Clicking your phone off, you really look at the mirror for the first time in forever. Have you always been this bad? 

Heavy bags hung under your eyes, sucking out any brightness they could have. Your face was round. Like super round. As in rounder than a giant wheel of cheese. 

It's because you're still fat.

You are still fat. Your boobs are still really obvious along with your hips and no one with functioning eyes would say that you were a boy. It's just unfair! John had it so much easier when he transitioned. An accepting father who let him transition right away, friends who wouldn't ever leave him because of the way he was, and exceedingly good looks and charm. Every boy in the trans community passed better than you! They're always so good looking, why do you have to be the ugly one? Why couldn't you be attractive? 

"Marie, if I walk in and see you crying, I'll swear to god, we'll strife again. And you can bet your shit that you'll get your ass handed to you."

Shit. Shit shit shitshitshit. You were so busy moping around you didn't even think about Bro. Fuck. "I'm not crying, Bro! Leave me alone!" You pray that Bro didn't notice how pathetic you sounded. 

Footsteps make their way closer to the door. You hear the quiet thump! as Bro leans against the doorway.

"Let me in, Marie." His voice was softer. It was almost kind. It was almost like he genuinely wanted to help you. Maybe you've been so busy moping around the last couple of months that you didn't notice that Bro got his act together. Maybe you've just been putting him in a horrible light.

Without hesitation, you open the door. He steps in and looks the same as usual; ratty jeans, ancient tee shirt, dirty everything, but one specific thing was missing. Something that was part of Bro's identity, thus part of yours. His shades. You guess he placed them somewhere after the fight cause when he kicked your ass, they were still on. Neon orange eyes stare at you, and you can tell he's waiting for you to say something. 

"I think I need some help cleaning up Bro."

Your voice is so quiet you're ninety percent certain he didn't hear you. But then he nods. He turns back to the main hallway and returns with a towel. It's clean which you can't believe. Nothing was ever clean in the house, except for maybe the swords if Bro was feeling up to it, but you're Striders, you guys don't have time to clean. After wetting the towel, he takes off the toilet paper you used as makeshift bandages. 

"Wow, I really got you good, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did, Bro." You want to say more but you don't. Instead you just look down. Looking at Bro sans shades gives you the squigs. The scatches are still bleeding, but at least your nose still wasn't. Have you always had that mole there? 

"I'm sorry, Marie." You look back up. His eyes were dry. His voice was flat. But he was apologising and it was all you ever wanted. "I'm sorry too, Bro. For lipping off earlier."  
A small smile replaces his typical stoic expression and for once you feel like things are going to change. No more strifes, actual food replacing the take away and weapons in the fridge, and maybe even Bro picking up after himself. 

A sudden warmth envelopes you and you wrap your arms back around him. He pats your shoulders a couple of times then just pulls you even closer. The two of you just stay like that for some more minutes. You're the one to pull away. 

"Hey Bro, I- I got something to tell you." 

His eyes semi twinkle when he looks down at you. "If you're gay, just know that it's fine. Most reasonable people are attracted to the ladies. Myself excluded."

"Oh um- it isn't like that." You swallowed the huge lump that kept say you're fucking shit up. Don't do that. "I think I'm trans, Bro. I think I feel like a guy." 

Seconds pass and Bro does nothing. The air keeps getting heavier and you can't breathe, you wish you just hadn't said anyth-. 

Your thoughts are cut short as something hits you. You fall to the ground. You can't believe it. He just smacked you. Not even in the way he does when you strife. He just slapped you silly and now he's just looking at you and oh god, you hope he isn't going to get you sent to a hospital- or kill you. That thought sends chills down your spine, and even in your hot apartment that didn't have any working A/C, you shivered. You didn't want to go like this. 

"Marie, I - I." He stopped and rubbed his temple. A pause hung heavy in the air. "I'm going to cut off your internet. I'll just work off my data plan." He turns to exit the room and right before stepping out, he stopped. "And if you ever joke about something like that again, you better hope I don't do something a lot worse than kicking you off the internet." 

You taste vomit as his footsteps fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grr I wanted to make this longer but the app I was using kind of failed so I'm still finding another way to write this. I'm working on the next chapter though!!! Promise !!!  
> Message me at tumblr @totally-hetero


	3. A note from the author

hello!!   
I am not going to be finishing this fanfiction at all. I am not in the state of mind I was when I actually wrote this. I'm trying to recover from my mental disorders including my eating disorder, my depression, and my anxiety.   
This was a story to release my emotions and let me vent, but since I'm in a better place and while I'm trans, I have come to realize that i am nonbinary, probably agender. I am not a trans guy.   
Honestly take this entire fic with a grain of salt. If anyone wants to actually do something with this, tell me either in the comments or talk to me on tumblr @totally-hetero.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure when (or if) I'll update this again. If people show an interest, I'll continue it.  
> Any ideas for where it should go? Should it be sadder or happier? Feedback is always greatly appreciated (positive and negetive!)


End file.
